


L'Ange de la Musique

by thatonehiddenbladeingibraltar



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonehiddenbladeingibraltar/pseuds/thatonehiddenbladeingibraltar
Summary: A trip to the Paris Opera House brings about a new light in your life. A light that contains a new hope for your life in music and singing itself.





	L'Ange de la Musique

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrostyChess (chesswatchesclouds)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chesswatchesclouds/gifts).



> I do not own anything except for the story itself. Please do not copy or credit this as your own.
> 
> This fic is a part of a writer's trade with FrostyChess. Go and check out their work!

You swear you hear singing whenever you enter the music hall. The void of empty velour seats seem to grow more obsolete the longer you stare, the large glass chandelier appearing to snap off of its chain every single moment, all of the inanimate objects in the room singing a story of its own. But this time, you hear actual singing coming from the stage when you set your bag on a spare table backstage.

A rich tenor melody dances its way into your ears as you peek out behind the heavy curtain to see a dark haired man belting his heart out with a perfect balance of vibrato, volume, and voice.

You stand there in awe as he stops abruptly and turns around to gaze in your direction. Slow heel clicks resonate under your feet as you slowly step out from behind the black drape to see him looking at you curiously.

“Hello there.” He greets with a warming grin as you look somewhat shyly towards him.

“Hi.” You manage to say before a wave of embarrassment washes over you and you let out a nervous giggle.

“How long have you been standing there?” The man asks in a distinct French accent and you cross your arms across your chest as you try to look at him directly without a hint of timidness in your eyes.

“Long enough to hear you sing.” You reply as you brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. “You’re wonderful.”

“So I’ve been told.” He laughs and you smile at him. “When I was thirteen, they called me _L’ange de la Musique_ because of my voice. I didn’t realize how much that would mean to me later on.”

“We never do. At least until it’s too late.” You nod and he smiles at you.

“I’m Arno.” He tells you and extends his hand.

“Y/N.” You reply and take his hand gently.

“So Y/N, what brings you to the Palais Garnier?” Arno inquires. “I don’t believe you came here only to hear me sing.”

“My mother was the _primadonna_ for the Paris Opera many years ago and she was teaching me before she passed five months ago. I remember when she would bring me backstage and all of the performers were in their costumes, ready to give everything for the show. That was the moment I realized I wanted to be an opera singer. ” You pause as you try not to let your eyes shed any more tears before you continue.

“When I told her I wanted to follow in her footsteps and at least achieve the position of understudy for the lead of one of the opera’s upcoming productions, she was so happy and even promised to be there on opening night before she died. I suppose I came here to see if to show me that singing was worth my time and devotion.” You finish and for a moment, you think Arno’s giving you a pitying look, the ones you’ve seen before one too many times, but instead, he’s giving you a different look. One you can’t pin quite accurately just yet.

Arno nods understandingly as he paces in between the distance from you to the stack of sheet music he had placed down earlier before you see his dark eyes light up with what you believed to be an idea.

“Perhaps I can be your new teacher. That is of course if you want one at all.” He offers and you turn your head to stare at him so fast that you feel like you could’ve snapped your own neck.

“R-really?” You stammer as you gape at him.

“ _Oui, ma chérie_. It would be my pleasure.” Arno replied and you engulf him in a hug which clearly shocks him, but you as well. You immediately let go of him and laugh slightly to try and shrug off any embarrassment you were currently experiencing.

“Thank you.” You reply and he picks up his music again.

“Meet me here tomorrow at noon. We’ll get started then.” Arno informs and takes his leave as you continue to stand there with a giddy smile on your face and hope in your heart.

‘ _The people weren’t wrong,_ ’ you thought as you walked backstage. He truly was an angel of music.


End file.
